I dunno what to make of the new writer so far; I know its a small sample size but… we havent done a thing to advance the plot again; all we’re doing is reviewing some old stories ex-players are telling to prove what a great coach Gil Thorp is, when the reality is he’s pretty much sucked eggs since most of us have started writing this blog. and if he thinks I’m giving him a pass he’s in for a rude awakening.
Of course they didnt have red uniforms years ago either but we wont dwell on that stuff. I suppose the writer is establishing Gils credibility as a leader of young men, so further stories have some weight from the past. I dont think any regular readers need made-up old situations that may or may not have actually occurred in the strip, and Lord knows there’s no way the writer had time to read through all the old strips available in book form or online. So he’s kinda winging it as if we dont notice nothing is happening for a week. Ha..
Anyway.. it appears the player Tays may have had some domestic issues, but, Gil, other players hit too. And we just got through a story where Gil was the last one to notice a players shortcomings, and now the writer thinks we’re gonna make a hero outa Gildo because of some old story that NOBODY can vouch for except Tays and Gil??
Not in this blog pardner. We need to see what you’ve done for me lately. Hey, a song!
Admit it, gentle readers: Unless you’re a fan of one of the other remaining teams in the Big Dance, you’re all St. Peter’s fans now. March Madness has its own magic peacocks this year, and they have nothing to do with an imagined reincarnation of a player’s recently deceased sibling. Not the Catholic university in North Jersey anyone would have expected to shine in the tournament, is it? Always great to see a Cinderella in March, and yet another reminder that it’s easier for schools to be competitive in college basketball that they can be in college football.
It’s also something to talk about besides this arc-ender that feels like a mistake. This story feels like it should have ended yesterday, with these two mooks hanging Pranit Smoothie upside down by his ankles in front of a stunned home crowd an emptied-out gym. (A shame Pranit Rock couldn’t have them doing the same to his welchers. It would’ve made more sense than that cockamamie bunch of lies he cooked up.) Betcha Gil wasn’t expecting his hired muscle to flex on his own teammates.
Reading today’s strip give me the feeling that Rubin & Whigham intended yesterday’s strip to be the last in the arc, then realized that they had not only counted the days incorrectly but also forgot to end it with their signature touches:
Hey, did anybody notice they’re playing baseball again? With more wacky rules to make the game more attractive to the attention-span challenged? Wonder how Rubin will approach the season. Another spunky, talented out-of-towner moves to Milford and joins the Mudlarks? The team rallies around a stuffed animal or some other superstitious good luck charm? A slight infraction leads to the benching of a star player until the last game of the season, when nothing’s on the line? What’s the over/under on any of these happening?
See you Monday to find out where it all starts. Until then, go Peacocks!
What a crock of crap this Prannit is. Did we really need a followup to yesterdays explanation of his collected bet money? I half expected all the money to fall out of his pockets when they flipped him upside down. When I was a kid our dad had a friend who would stand on his head and a bunch of change would fall out of his pockets, and we kids could scoop it up.
So he had to be dishonest to get people to be honest. Sheesh. Why would they give a crap whether he could go to school or not?? YOU CAN PAY SOMEONE ANYWHERE! Why does it necessarily have to be on school property?
And I thought he was just suspended from the basketball team, not from school, period. Big difference.
AND — he’s a dope for not collecting the damn money in the first place. Why make everything so difficult?
And who said anything about “all these poker sites” before? I thought it was SportsDuke or nothing. Another piece of BS from Mister BS.
And if any of these morons who didnt pay him before had a brain, they wouldnt believe his story about listing names on a betting website, because THERE IS NO SUCH LISTING ON ANY OF THESE WEBSITES NOR HAS THERE EVER BEEN!
I’m gettin’ sappy nostalgic on you whippersnappers again but I bet you’ll love this one. You old fogeys like me surely remember the great Johnny Bench when he was with the Cincinnati Reds and the famed Big Red Machine. You hated them because they WON all the time. They would steal more victories than Pranit’s betting network and even when you beat them, you EARNED it. I’ve told this before but bears repeating, once on the day of the 1976 Major League Baseball All-Star Game, an announcer said flatly on the radio “Tonight, the American League will take on the Cincinnati Reds”. THAT’S how formidable they were.
That said, Bench was in this Wheaties commercial where nothing is going right (the whole thing looked staged judging by the softball warm-up shirt the opponent was wearing) as he applies the tag and his catcher’s mitt falls off or he fields a bunt and slips on his ass or tries to field a foul pop in the stands and winds up practically getting a kid’s ice cream and the ball back because another kid feels sorry for him. As this comedy of errors is happening, a jingle is playfully playing, as if some dog-and-pony band is taunting him, “Heyyyyyyyyyy, John, you didn’t have your Wheaties/C’mon, Man, you’re lookin’ kinda sad”, or something to that effect. Finally, the umpire gruffly says “Hey, Bench, you didn’t have your Wheaties today, did ya?” Bench wasn’t going to argue.
But damn, it looks like the Wheaties truck pulled up at this game right behind Nick’s Pizza and Jay’s Subs, judging by Gordon’s physique today. He must have eaten a bathtub full of Wheaties. It’s a shame if they don’t make the Playdowns. He’d be the starting middle linebacker, hands down. And if you have any lingering gambling debts, you better pay ’em now or King Kong will be at your locker faster than you can say Goodfellas. I know I’m looking through my 3-ring binder for any outstanding betting slips.
And Pranit is yet another player leading the Wheaties parade today. Anybody who can toss a beach ball into a waste basket the janitor borrowed from one of the classrooms must have OD’d on the cereal. This is what psychologists call Compensation. You want to show how grateful you are that Gil didn’t put you in a strait jacket and ship your ass in the Valley Modified van to Valley Modified when he was within the boundaries to do so AND REALLY SHOULD HAVE ANYWAY that you become compulsive/obsessive for Wheaties, Shredded Wheat, Total, Great Value Flakes, Life, Post Toasties, Corn Whispies, which helps you play the game of your career. You can shoot a Great Value Flakes box into the basket, you’re that pumped. You and King Kong could win the Valley if the coaching ate its Wheaties but it appears Gil’s had one box of Cocoa Puffs too many. God, no wonder why the team falls apart.
Heyyyyyyyyyyy, Gil, you didn’t have your Wheaties
C’mon, dude, your manhood’s kinda sad
“Gil, you didn’t eat your Wheaties. Don’t come back to bed until you’ve had a bowl or two.”
“Are they still in that Lazy Susan?”
Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer
“Bobby Howry Denied Access From Milford Outdoor Agency For Six Months!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
sub headline
“‘Gil coaches like he’s got a Wheaties box wedged in his butt cheeks’ was deemed inappropriate by Outdoor Agency officials.”
Sheesh, no wonder why Pranit is having a career night. My goodness, the structure of the basketball backboard, goal, uprights, rafters, etc., looks like they were created out of somebody’s jungle gym. If Milford Elementary School cancelled recess due to lack of playground equipment, we can soon zero in on the culprit.I think they kept the slide unless Gil is desperate enough to replace some of the bleachers that have had better days. Keep the chains from the swings in case Homer the Ref blows a block/charge and need something to fling at him when he isn’t looking. We wouldn’t want Homer to swallow his whistle.
Anyway, have a day, Pranit. You should have had more of those but we’re too anxious for Spring sports to care.
Heyyyyyyyyyy, Dr. Pearl, you didn’t eat your Wheaties
C’mon, Ma’am, file cabinet’s overran
“Honey Bunches Moon Pie Sniggle Snuggle Petie Pie, you’re more frigid than a Klondike bar. Did you eat your Wheaties?”
“Oh dear, I knew there was something I neglected to note in my appointment book. I’ll be right back. Where’s the reading lamp?”
Is Thorpiverse still griping about those deadbeats that didn’t pay up on their gambling debts? Folks, I am not prepared to open up another can of worms when we’ve had plenty crawl all over the floor. Like, where is THIS leading? If Pranit solicits Gordon’s prowess again, is Gil going to get tough and use the paddle on Pranit? We know Pranit isn’t going to Valley Modified and you get the feeling that unless he plants a bomb in the boiler room, he’s going to get no worse than the switch. I oughta tan your hide for roughing up students on account of the Indiana-Purdue game. Gil Thorp meets Pa Kettle. What a way to fly into Spring sports.
Let this go already. Pranit is on a roll, then Tevin brings up a subject he was preaching loud and long against and is now basically saying that they may have dragged your ass into Hell but they could have at least rolled out the red carpet on your way there.
And what is Pranit going to do, not that I’m advising playing with fire. He already went the Tough Guy Route. Send the FTD Florist to each deadbeat as a gesture of goodwill? Well, he won’t get suspended by the school or knocked up side his head a two-by-four per Gil but these kinds of things show up in Gene Stratton Porter stories. Some lout in Limberlost didn’t cough up the money, now he’s invited to the church picnic and as long as he brings his own 3-bean salad, the matter is forgiven. Just don’t forget to call the umpire for the Annual Valley Modified-Milford Battle For Valley Conference Bragging Rights game.
“O.J. Turns Down Offer From Milford Screen Actors Guild For A Spot In A Wheaties Commercial!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
sub headline
“I eat Milford Valley Corny Chocolate Crunchies every morning and I don’t see that changing now.”
And really, did Gordon pull a wheat combine and park in the Faculty lot before the game because he bulked up to Shaq proportions. I can see the threat. Pay Pranit what’s owed him or I’ll pull this John Deere all over yo’ body. He could dismantle the goal and uprights all by himself at this point. Get your debts settled pronto or risk getting a Milford & Oakwood Passenger Sunday Special shoved in your living room. Thus spake Gordon.
Heyyyyyyyy, Corinaaaaa, you didn’t have your Wheaties
C’mon, lass, your head is up your ass
“Corina, you okay? That’s the 10th passed ball today.”
“Shhhhhhhhh, I’m trying to get out of my scholarship.”
And again, WHAT is Pranit going to do? Even admitting that we might get a clever ying to this useless yang, Mr. Ed has done left the barn and Wilbur Post is at Milford Auction Services in the market for another horse. It’s nice to see everybody getting all kissy-faced with Pranit when he really needed a size 12 in the you-know-where for his insouciant carelessness and should have gotten butter-knifed to Valley Modified but do we have to sustain more self-inflicted injuries and find out he put anybody who owed him anything through the Salvation Army Debt Forgiveness Program? All they had to do was contribute a tax-deductible $25 to the soup kitchen? How they had money to finance bums eating canned Spam but couldn’t repay Pranit, well, y’know Gil, er, the devil’s in the details. But given the sillliness of the plot, the just-mentioned scenario was simply par for the course.
So now we put a tracker on Pranit and he’s at Milford Moose Lodge Fellowship Hall where a huge feast is thrown for even those who owe him a quarter for what spit out of the gumball machine and we all hug and grab and embrace and Pranit even gets an award for Best Sixth Man since he was being benched for being stupid but bailed out Gil when Gordon wasn’t plowing through the defense. We have a few days until April. There’s still time to form a committee for the feast.
Gang, I’ve tried. I have honestly tried. I know variety is the spice of life but when I heard on the radio the other day about Compressed Therapy for Erectile Dysfunction, how could I NOT address the issue, especially when lots of men in Mudlarkland have wimpy wim wims when going to bed? And all they needed was a laminating press as an antidote? I had to answer the call
“Mommy, Daddy is in the den and he’s making a lot of noise. He’s saying something like ‘I’m goin’ hard or goin’ home’. He also said something about his money back.”
“WHAT????? Keri, Mommy is going to stop this carnival before it makes a clown out of you and me.”
WHIIIIRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“Ahhhhhhh, that’ll speed up the process. This Jacuzzi Mini-Tub I ordered will get my thang harder than the Rock of Gibralter in less than half an hour. And all I have to do is add some epsom salts. Gotta flavor the meat.”
“Gil, unlock this damn door now!!! You are scaring the bejabbers out of the kids!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
WACKY TACKY WACKY TACKY WACKY-
“Honey, dammit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don’t bother me now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m in the rinse cycle of this compression machine that I put together from the parts I ordered from Milford Electronics. I need a gentle massage and a spraying away all the detritus from my thang. This’ll only take a moment.”
“Daddy, why were you using test tubes earlier? I heard a lot of crashing and clinking.”
“Honey, Daddy has to be a man and if he has to go to Hobby Lobby to buy a chemistry set to aid and abet in the cause, then by God, it’ll be worth it when he’s making a goal line stance with Mommy in bed tonight.”
more CLINK!!!!!!! CLINK!!!!!!!!!! CLINK!!!!!!!!!!! CLUNK!!!!!!!!!!!
“Keri, if Daddy was using the EREC-3503 Anti-Coagulant Thermal Formula that I laid on the dresser, there’d be no need for test tubes, Erlenmeyer flasks, Bunsen burners, beakers, or Jacuzzi wash tubs. Now, Gil, can this foolishness and get your butt out here NOW!!!”
HMMMMMMMMMMYEEEEEEEOOOOWWWWWWWWWWW as the compressed therapy erectile enhancer machine growls like Joe “Tricky Sam” Nanton used to do with his trombone in the Duke Ellington Orchestra
“Mimi, it’s like this. When you add enough hydrochloric acid to methanedeoxydrylmagnesiumethanolsulfuricpentagranicnitroussonicnutrasweetstinkinggasradicaliondilithiumterrabutylacetylene, it should pump that thang after you have gone through the treadmill and titrated General Mills Reduced Fat Flour and then run off enough phenylthalene to distill through the pipetted solution that contains enough solute to blow up Assembly Hall and generate the cathode tube through your spleen to stimulate the compression process so that tonight, I’ll be a new man after I limped on the court like Willis Reed and still got the Knicks the championship.”
“Mommy, can we go to Toys ‘R’ Us and buy a chemistry set? I want to put sulfuric acid on my wee wee so I don’t go limp like this Mr. Willis that Daddy’s talking about.”
“YOU’LL DO NOTHING OF THE SORT, JAIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Gil, open this door-“
BLAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
“Damn, I knew I should have added acid to water.”
“It wasn’t a picnic cleaning up the mess. And I took that Anti-Coagulant Formula Mimi was pushing on me and can see why she did. We have had the time of our lives and every night is Game 7 of the 1970 NBA Finals and I’m Willis Reed dunkin’ on Wilt with a reinvigorated thang. Come to Milford Men’s Clinic where the friendly staff can show you how to a reverse jam on your partner. Manhood has never been better.”
Gang, that’s enough. Stop sending Andre the Giant into the game. Shoot, he devoured the whole Wheaties factory. ‘Nuff said.
But God bless you anyway
Heyyyyyyyyyy, Thorpiverse, you didn’t eat your Wheaties
Man, check out the withered arm on Gil! Is he ready to be Emperor of Germany or what? Actually, his forearm looks to be appropriately sized, but his bicep has shriveled considerably. Must be hard keeping his arm still above the elbow while he shoots pocket pool. That, or all the blood in his arm has traveled to his super engorged hand.
Now that Dr. Pearl’s involved, Pardon My Pranit is just steps away from taking the express bus to Valley Modified. He should’ve gone there first to find his hired muscle.
What’s today’s lesson, gentle readers? All together now: “Always get the money up front before you place someone else’s bets.” Sheesh, what an amateur.
We move on with the storyline and repeat what was inferred before– Gordon is wondering if he is being used as a muscle man to obtain said bets made and not paid for. These dopes in the strip must read this blog too!
But the only problem is– where the hell is Pranit gonna get this money he’s gonna pay Gordon if HE DOESNT HAVE ANY NOW??? I digress– back in the 70’s on the Carol Burnett show they had a scene where a character paid a large sum of cash for something and Tim Conway said after the fact – “Excuse me, this money has little choo choos on it.” Carol Burnetts character exploded at whoever collected the money (possibly Harvey Korman) and yelled– “Are you kidding? This is Monopoly money!!” Funny what you remember years later from 1 show, but that one always stuck with me. Anyone else remember that one?
It was the inspiration for my post title, and at this point it may be all Praniits got. He’s getting further and further in the soup with each passing day, and I’m actually enjoying watching him melt down from his dumb decisions. Everyone I ever dealt with in any gambling scheme made me pay the money up front (mostly football confidence pools and baseball stuff) Whatever made Pranitt do otherwise is beyond me.
And if Gordon has half a brain, he says No thank you – go see Coach Thorp about this or your guidance counselor.
I also recall Jimmy Stewart in Its A Wonderful Life getting in a similar pickle when he’s loaning everyone in town money and then after Uncle Billy loses the money at the bank to the old man that he cant pay back his debts. He has a line of people out the door demanding more then he can give them. Hard to watch, as he asks one guy– Now, how much do you REALLY need? Thats what happens when everything is on credit.
So Prannit is coming to a fork in the road, and the direction he turns will determine his fate. He still has to deal with Fat Boy too.
If he picks the wrong way , he will land on Go Directly To Jail. Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200.
I guess what Hollis is figuring out is – on the court she can be a leader, off the court is a different story. I think almost everyone no matter what their age can separate their work life from their social life, and when the 2 get too close together, friction like this can result.
The girls obviously dont care what Hollis thinks about their off-the-court entertainment, and they really shouldnt. I wouldnt either. Like I said above, what people do with their free time is their business, and I’m sure all Hollis has to do is avoid these situations if they make her uncomfortable. If she’s gonna blame her teammates for not making the academy, as the girls in P2 inferred, Thats being selfish. Suspensions to other players should have no bearing on her admissions. You can only control what you do ultimately. How long Hollis takes to figure this out will determine how long this storyline runs its course.
Hope we get back to SportsDuke next week- I’m actually interested in how that turns out, as I have heard from many degenerate gamblers who blew their life savings in short order for the rush of the possible jackpot that never comes. Maybe Prannit and Hollis will have a chance meeting somehow and tie this all together?
Just because a plot is plausible doesn’t mean it isn’t dopey.
Some really dumb things happened in the fall arc, none of which would have led to negative consequences if someone hadn’t stepped up to stop them from happening. As soon as Boyd Spiller called Tevin Claxton a choker more than once, one or more of his teammates (maybe that voice of reason Gordon Achebe) should’ve shoved him in a locker or otherwise nipped it in the bud. As soon as word of Spiller’s hypnotricks got around, Tevin could’ve revealed that he’d be seeing a sports shrink, preventing multiple people from believing there was magic in Boyd’s pen light. But then he wouldn’t be able to give his preliminary TED talk which, though it kinda bombed, set the stage for Chance Macy’s better-received speech. As soon as Kianna Bello passed out at The Bucket, someone could’ve told her to stop burning the candle at both ends, which would’ve kept her from staring into Boyd’s pen light and, well, you know the rest.
As has been mentioned here multiple times over the course of the fall, a Coach, more than likely a Thorp, could’ve stepped up and and put a stop to most if not all of this. When Kianna started showing signs of fatigue, either Mimi or the gymnastics coach could’ve told her to quit one or the other team. At the very least, Mimi could’ve powered her by coffee. Even when Tevin kept his mouth shut and let people start believing there was something to Boyd’s pen light, either Gil or Kaz could’ve shut it down. No way word doesn’t get to the coaching staff until just before the Madison game.
Ah, well. Order is maintained in Milford. Mudlark teams underachieve. No one has to live up to anyone’s expectations but their own, especially Gil, Mimi and Kaz, who can always blame their teams’ shortcomings on their superstitious players. Everything is bound up as tightly as those kids’ digestive systems after eating all that Bucket food. Well, except for Kianna’s sitch. We’ll never know how that got resolved, because girl.
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This Week in Milford 